


Taking Chances

by EarthsickWithoutYou



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Whouffaldi - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slightly Christmassy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthsickWithoutYou/pseuds/EarthsickWithoutYou
Summary: A stressful last day before Christmas break at school leaves Clara exhausted, but when she comes aboard the TARDIS, the Doctor endeavors to cheer her up and help her feel very much better indeed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this story could occur after an alternate version of Series 9 where Clara never dies and she continues to travel with the Doctor.

Clara sighed, shaking snow off of her boots before stepping into the TARDIS, wishing she was in a better mood. She hadn’t seen the Doctor in what seemed like ages, though she knew that in reality, it had only been a couple of weeks. So she wanted to be her usual bright and bouncy self for him, but couldn’t force the attitude to emerge in her exhausted state. She undid her scarf as she stepped inside, then slipped her mittens into her coat pockets, looking around the console room. “Hello?”

“Hi! Hello!” The Doctor chirped happily, exhibiting way more energy than Clara could summon at the moment. _oh, great, he’s totally “on” right now, and I’m half asleep. Dammit!_ He stepped forward, all sparkling blue eyes and buttoned-up adorableness in his navy suit and white shirt, looking primed for an astounding adventure. Clara, on the other hand, felt about as primed for a long winter’s nap as the protagonist in “Twas The Night Before Christmas.”

“There’s something the matter with you,” He surmised, brow furrowing sightly, his long fingers stroking his chin in thought as he appraised her. Clara sank into a chair, shrugging her coat off and crossing her ankles. Well, at the very least, in her slate-grey skirt, black opaque tights, grey ankle boots and soft, white sweater, Clara knew she _looked_ cute, however uncute she felt.

“You look terrible,” the Doctor clucked, striding over to her and taking a knee to examine her more closely. Clara winced.

“Terrible? Do we need to get out the cards, Doctor? Isn’t there one in there about tasteful compliments to cloak one’s actual thoughts on someone’s appearance?” Clara laid her hand to her forehead, then pressed her lips together.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Clara,” he chided, “I don’t mean _terrible_ , terrible! You look as if you’ve seen a ghost is all.” 

Clara’s expression shifted from mild annoyance to affectionate patience as she saw the real concern in his face, despite his typically awkward verbalizations.

“If you must know, I’ve had a pounding headache all afternoon,” she explained, rubbing her neck, which was stiff as well, naturally. “The kids all decided to spend the last day before holiday break ignoring every basic rule of decorum and pushing my buttons. Stomping on them, really. They just _so_ didn’t want to be there today, and if I’m honest, neither did I. I wanted to be _here,_ I couldn’t wait to get here, and now I’m here and I’m completely drained. I’m sorry, Doctor. I don’t think I can go racing off into the jaws of danger and fascination at the moment, but even so…” 

Clara reached into the gift bag she’d brought and took out a bright red, shiny package of hot cocoa. “I brought cocoa and it’s the day before Christmas Eve, and I’ve missed you. Can we just…you know.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “Can we just hang out?” She finished almost shyly.

“Of course we can just hang out, d’you think I don’t know how to do that?” The Doctor asked, just a tiny bit paranoid that she might actually hold that theory, and that it was possibly true.

“I guess we’re about to find out if you can just _be_ , just relax outside the presence of famous historical figures, astronaut ghosts, and generalized imminent peril,” she replied drily. 

“Ha. Just you wait and see, Clara Oswald. I am literally the _best_ at chilling out. I’m so chill, they call me Frosty.” Clara laughed at his enormous grin, the one he only wore when transparently exaggerating.

“Okay, take it down a notch, you’re not fooling anyone,” Clara smirked, realizing that even her facial muscles felt sore from having had this particular headache for hours, despite the medicine she’d taken. 

“Matter of fact, I’ll do you one better than just relaxing. ‘Course, there’s plenty of time for that, _and_ I’m pretty sure there’s a movie theater somewhere in this TARDIS, even if I haven’t had time to use it in oh, a few decades now. But first things first, Clara, I’ll take care of that headache for you.” He rubbed his hands together and Clara felt her curiosity pique.

“What’d you mean?” 

“Well, if you trust me to help, I’ve got some foolproof methods. It’s a Time Lord thing.” He rested an elbow on his knee and Clara realized that he was still crouched in front of her, comfort forgotten in his solicitude over her. She silently indicated he should sit in the chair beside her, tugging his sleeve and nodding to it until he slid obediently into the seat.

“So,” the Doctor added, “Do you trust me, Clara?”

“Basically,” Clara smiled, drawing out the word in faux-uncertainty that made him chuckle. 

“Great. So close your eyes then.” 

Honestly, the idea of the Doctor promising to use his expertise on her and then asking her to close her eyes sounded like the first scene in one of her fantasies about him, the romantic and sexy sort of fantasy she was entertaining far too often of late. Plus, he was doing that husky thing with his voice that she really loved. His voice sounded deep and soft at the same time, and she wanted to hear it in her ear as his lips pressed against it, then perhaps traveled all over her body…

Clara cleared her throat, blushing, as her eyelids fluttered down compliantly. “Okay, eyes shut.” She nearly had a heart attack when she felt him carefully pulling her cardigan from her shoulders, leaving her in a black camisole, her chest rising and falling quickly. Next, she felt his fingers posed at her neck and shoulders, easily covering quite a bit of her skin. If Clara’s headache wasn’t so damned annoying, she would have sworn she was asleep and dreaming this scenario, but the icepick stab at her temple confirmed that this was reality.

“Relax your shoulders,” he urged gently. His voice was startlingly close to her ear after all, his breath warm against her skin, making it tingle slightly. “Breathe easily, Clara.” The Doctor began to massage her shoulders, quickly locating the knots of tension and releasing them with a confident ease that shocked her, especially since feeling all of that stiff discomfort falling away from her body was an amazing sensation. Still, her head throbbed, though slightly less aggressively, as if he’d started off by decreasing one source of pain that was only making the headache worse. It seemed he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Next, the Doctor touched his fingers to either side of Clara’s temple. “Is this where the pain is worst?” Clara nodded. He applied light pressure and began moving his fingers in small circles, and after a minute or so, Clara suddenly grabbed hold of the arms of the chair in surprised bliss. 

“Whoa!” She exclaimed incredulously. “Okay.” She squinted at him through one eye because he hadn’t told her to open them yet. “How did you do that? The pain is almost completely gone!”

She sneaked a glimpse of his relieved-looking face as he sat back down and took her hands in his. “There’s a pressure point here, and if I do this…” The Doctor touched the soft part on her palm just below her thumb, then massaged it just a little. Clara sighed deeply, her eyes closing all the way again. “…It will take care of the rest.” The last vestiges of pain faded from Clara’s head and she looked at the Doctor as if she was seeing him for the first time.

“I know I’m always telling you to ‘be a Doctor,’ but this is the first time I’ve actually seen you _literally_ be a doctor. Explain yourself, immediately!” Clara grinned as he turned into the shy one, playing it off as no big deal.

“I told you, it’s a Time Lord thing, and a bit of an experience thing. Very long life and all, I’ve helped with my fair share of physical ailments.” He stood and walked about randomly, just trying to contain his reciprocal enthusiasm as Clara wondered what he would actually do if she just ran over to him and kissed him.

She sank into a slight reverie while he was still babbling on about the time he’d had to do a heart transplant between two different alien species with nothing but an outdated first aid kit, his sonic screwdriver and Strax as the world’s worst surgeon’s assistant. He gesticulated with his hands, clearly pleased that he’d managed to change the subject and take the focus away from the physical encounter which had occurred between himself and Clara, since he didn’t know what to do about the feelings it aroused. It was all so endearingly obvious to her that she wondered what in the hell they were waiting for, after all, really. Was it pride, mutual worry that their feelings weren’t returned? Surely not by this point, not with the way they’d been looking at one another over these past few months. She’d never been so happy, but it felt like there was so much more happiness just waiting for them if she could only summon the nerve to make a move.

In a foggy way, she caught onto the fact that the Doctor was asking her something. Clara put her thoughts aside for the moment and tuned back in. “…cold?” He finished, looking at her as if he’d realized she was being a bit odd.

“What?” She tilted her head slightly to one side, taking in his tall elegance, the slim lines of his figure. And of course, that sweet, handsome, idiot genius face, currently perplexed.

“Aren’t you cold?” The Doctor repeated, definitely weirded out by her distraction. Clara glanced at her bare shoulders.

“I hadn’t noticed,” She replied smoothly, slipping off the chair and crossing the room to stand before him. Clara gazed up at him tentatively, then the questioning look he gave her brought back a wave of uncertainty. “So what movies do you have?” Not exactly what she’d been planning to say, but it would do for the moment.


	2. Chapter 2

“This is unbearable!” The Doctor complained, rage outlining his features in the dimmed movie theater as he reacted to a dramatic scene in _Miracle on 34th Street._ Kris Kringle had just been falsely accused of misconduct and removed from his job at Macy’s, committed to a home for the mentally ill. “I won’t stand for this!”

“Doctor,” Clara giggled, “It’s just a movie. Don’t worry, it has a happy ending. I can’t believe you’ve never seen this.”

He frowned at the villainous psychiatrist character and replied, “It had better.”

“Calm down and eat your popcorn,” Clara suggested, passing him the bowl. He shrugged and took a few pieces.

By the time the movie was over, he laid a hand on his hearts and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I can’t believe you let me watch that, Clara. That was practically a horror movie.”

“You don’t watch a lot of movies, do you?” Clara inquired, and he shook his head. 

“I never get the time,” he explained, “Always running around the universe, never sitting still. I’m glad we took a day to just ‘hang out,’ Clara. Perhaps I’ve underrated it.”

The lights were still down though the screen had flickered off, so they were in near total darkness, and that made Clara feel brave somehow. Or maybe it was the way he’d loosened up today. It looked so good on him.

“Anything else you might’ve underrated?” Clara asked, placing the popcorn aside and leaning in close to him.

“I-I don’t know,” the Doctor stammered nervously. “Can you be more specific?”

“Yeah. You took a chance on taking the day off and just relaxing with me. What other chances should you be taking? Or would you rather that I did, to make myself completely clear?” She blinked up at him with her large brown eyes and found that his crystal blue gaze had shifted from mixed curiosity and awkwardness to something quite like desperation to know what she was suggesting.

“Clara, I think you’d better,” the Doctor requested finally.

Clara placed her elbows on the armrest of her chair and leaned up, pressing her mouth to the Doctor’s, finding that his lips were warm and unexpectedly responsive. She might’ve expected him to freeze up in shock, but instead, he kissed her back all at once. It was brief and very sweet…tantalizing, in fact. Clara pulled back for a moment and asked quietly, “Was that a chance worth taking?”

Even though he hadn’t allowed shock to stop him from responding to her kiss, surprise was etched across his every facial feature, and he was speechless for several beats before giving in to a massive grin. “Definitely,” the Doctor confirmed. He ran a hand over her hair, stroking it lovingly before tracing her cheek, and Clara knew that he wanted to touch her but couldn’t summon the urge to instigate the next kiss. That wasn’t a problem she had. 

The kissing went from soft and almost teasing to deeper and longer as they sat there, growing bolder until the armrest between them was just an annoyance in their way. The Doctor, who had let go of his inhibitions considerably, took Clara by the waist and she went along with the shift in position which his movements encouraged. She climbed onto his lap, her legs nestled snugly against his, then slipped off her boots and stroked his legs with her stockings-clad feet. “I quite like that,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lips once more, then twice, and so on…

“I quite like _this_ ,” Clara replied the next time they took a break to get their breath back. “Kissing that is, and…all the rest. With you.” She blushed and looked away, but he put a finger to her cheek and gently turned her face back to him. 

“We haven’t even begun to cover ‘all the rest,’” He replied, somehow, impossibly playful and dead serious at the same time. Whatever that particular tone of his voice was, it was one she hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing before and she loved it. The only way to truly describe it with any accuracy was “seductive.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’ll like it,” Clara replied, biting her lip. She ran her finger down the front of his shirt, over the neatly fastened buttons, soon feeling two hearts beating very hard and fast when her touch wandered to them. She laid her palm there and smiled. “And…we did take the day off.”

“Nothing pressing we need to get to,” the Doctor agreed, adding another kiss for emphasis. “Well, actually, _this_ does seem rather urgent all of a sudden, doesn’t it?”

“It does indeed,” Clara concurred. She stood and took his hand, leading him out of the theatre. Her intention was to head straight for whoever’s room they got to first — she forgot now, the seemingly random turns and corridors they’d gone through in their path to find the theatre, whose location he’d actually forgotten and had to figure out again. Their patience was tested by the twisting journey they’d have to take to find a room with a bed. With their hands still joined as they searched for the correct way back, Clara touched the wall absentmindedly with her other hand, until she found that her back was suddenly against it, her wrists lightly pinned by her head as the Doctor kissed her. “That’s rather naughty of you,” she murmured coquettishly and he dropped her wrists as if he had done that particular move completely on instinct and desire, and her words had alerted him to the specificity of it.

“I didn’t say to stop,” Clara insisted, biting down on his lower lip softly as he resumed his original position, “But just be forewarned that two can play that game.”

“I like the sound of that,” the Doctor replied. “What do you think the chances are that we’ll ever find a bedroom?”

“I always like to think there’s nothing you and I can’t do if we put our heads together,” Clara smiled. 

“Sound reasoning!” He led her again down the hall, until low and behold, they actually found what they were looking for. The Doctor stepped into Clara’s room and smiled at the plum-colored walls, the lilac-silver accents and very comfortable-looking bed. Of course, though he’d pretended initially that all of his guest rooms were this nice, he’d secretly gotten her all-new items before she came to stay there the first time, only the best. A reading chair sat by a large Gallifreyan painting of the Milky Way galaxy, and on the table to one side of the chair, a box of crackers sat next to a book turned upside down to save the page she’d left off on. The sight filled him with affection. It was such an utterly Clara sort of a place, this room. He loved being there.

Clara came up behind him and slipped his jacket off of his shoulders. “I always meant to thank you for letting me stay in such a lovely room,” She told him when he turned around. She played with his collar and then undid the first two buttons, sliding her fingers against his neck and just below. The sensation, so seemingly simple, aroused him considerably, and he breathed deeply, his eyes closing. 

“I also always wished you’d visit here more often. All those nights,” Clara sighed, undoing the rest of the buttons, then the ones at his wrists, with deliberate slowness. She undid his belt, then used one end of it to tug him gently to her bed, where she lay down and waited for him to join her.

“All those nights,” he repeated, hovering over her now, sighing as she removed his shirt and ran her hands over the bare skin of his back when he kissed her again. “I wondered about this so many times. Wondered if you were thinking the same things.”

“I don’t regret it, though,” Clara admitted, “Not really. Somehow, this feels like perfect timing.” She sat up so that she could take off her sweater, then her camisole, his eyes burning into her with deep desire. 

Clara realized that that desire had always been there, smoldering and smothered, held back by his reserve and now fully freed for the first time. 

“Anything I’d say right now just seems so…trite,” the Doctor struggled, his touch ghosting over her shoulders, falling to the cleavage above her bra, so careful and tender. He touched the silky black material of the bra, feeling her nipples harden instantly, grazing them through the fabric in a circular motion.

“You can try it out anyway,” Clara suggested with a smile, holding herself together somehow, though what he was beginning to do to her breasts was extremely distracting. 

“You’re beautiful,” the Doctor murmured, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, stroking his tongue against hers as she took his belt off. “Breathtakingly, heartbreakingly, world-stoppingly beautiful. I’ve always thought so, as you might have guessed. I’ve always…” He hesitated.

“Not trite,” Clara said, laying down again and drawing him against her body, cradling him between her legs and resting her fingers against the curls at the back of his neck. “Tell me the rest.”

“Everything about you is that beautiful, your mind, your heart,” he continued, “And so…despite every idiotic, futile attempt I’ve made to hide it, I’ve always loved you, Clara Oswald. Always wanted you.” He kissed her lips again, then her neck, her shoulder, where he added, “Always will.”

Clara shivered at the depth of his emotion, his passion for her, how much they needed each other. “Show me,” she pleaded, and he responded by kissing her more hungrily than ever, until her lips were full and tingly. She reached down without looking and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the floor. The Doctor repeated the attentions his fingers had paid to her breasts, but this time with his tongue, and Clara’s breath hitched. She put her fingers inside her skirt and tugged it off, along with her stockings, then pulled him against her lace panties, gasping at his hardness. Wordlessly, she reached for the bedside table, opening the drawer to grab a condom that was hidden under a notebook.  


She knew he’d be wondering why she kept that in her drawer here on the TARDIS, so Clara explained, “Just in case you were thinking the same things and ever wanted to come here and tell me so.”

“Clara,” the Doctor sighed sharply when she had unclothed him entirely. 

“Mmm?” Clara asked, placed under a trance by the electric sensation of his mouth against her body, exploring the smooth skin of her stomach, going lower until he pulled off her underwear and pressed his lips to her, then intensified the kiss. Clara moaned, and he looked up and grinned shamelessly. 

“That,” he explained in response to her inquiry. Clara sighed as her heart fluttered and pleasure radiated through her, then he rested his elbows against hers, slightly pinning her again for a moment before using one hand to guide himself inside her. They were practically panting as he began to move in and out, his grip on her arms resuming, gentle but firm. Clara ceded the control without a thought. He was the only one who could take her over like this. 

The Doctor did all he could to draw the experience out, trying not to quicken the pace and let go almost right away, despite the overwhelming temptation given how it felt to be there inside her. But she wanted to see him surrender, Clara realized, wanted to know that she was the one to send him over the edge, yet even as that thought occurred to her so powerfully, it was her turn to let go. She moaned and threw her head back, and the sight of Clara orgasming made it impossible for the Doctor to maintain any sort of control over himself. He let go of her arms and pressed his face against her shoulder, trembling and breathing hard, hearts pounding as he came, and Clara kissed his face.

“By the way, I love you too,” Clara announced after they had laid there in total silence for several minutes, and the Doctor smiled, stroking strands of perspiration-dampened hair back from her forehead, tucking them behind her ear. “Quite a lot, actually. More than anyone, more than anything. You’re just…my favorite.”

“It’s hard for me to believe,” he answered huskily, “I don’t think I deserve it, after all the nonsense I’ve put you through.”

“What if I say you _do_ deserve it?” Clara asked, climbing on top of him, her hands pressed against his chest. “And then some.”

“Bossy,” the Doctor smirked, his hands immediately flying to her waist.

“Bossy is right,” Clara agreed happily, then grabbed his hands and placed them beneath her own against the sheets. “My turn,” she announced, threading their fingers together, leaning over him seductively.

“Right you are,” the Doctor replied at this happy development.

***************************************************************************************

Later, they took their mugs of hot cocoa to the library and sat together on the couch. The Doctor showed her some of his favorite books about art from so many exotic and fascinating cultures he’d seen over the years, then Clara reminded him about several volumes of classic poetry he’d forgotten he even had. Much like the movie theatre, it was very nice indeed to let something whimsical and romantic back into his life. To shake off the shackles of resistance to such supposedly doomed concepts and just be in the moment with Clara. 

“Can we have more days like this?” She asked him, “Just you and me being together, in between adventures and all? Loads more?”

“I would have it no other way,” He promised, laying a book aside. She returned it to his fingers and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“You don’t seriously think you’re getting out of this situation _without_ reciting poetry to me, do you?” She batted her eyelashes at him, smiling playfully.

“‘Bright star,’” The Doctor began, reading the words of John Keats with a passionate and eloquent expression to his tone that took her breath away. She nestled closer to him as he continued, “‘Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-  
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night…”

 _No, not alone anymore, thank goodness,_ Clara thought, _Not if I can help it. As long as I can be here, he’ll never be alone again, and neither will I._

The night deepened around them on so many worlds, and the TARDIS was lovingly embraced by black space and bright stars, comfortingly wrapped around the Doctor and Clara, together at last.


End file.
